


Full Of Surprises

by vix_spes



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Flirting, Gen, Humor, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It really shouldn’t have surprised them that Q really could do more damage in his pyjamas before his first cup of Earl Grey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Of Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my first forays into writing James Bond fic; a shiny new fandom that I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be sucked into but I have no willpower. This was written for the following prompt at the 007kinkmeme; Something unexpected happens at a ridiculous time of night and Q does, in fact, come to work in his pyjamas. With bed-hair. Huge thanks to digthewriter for the fantastic beta

Q let out a stream of particularly vitriolic curses as he viciously stubbed his toe on some piece of furniture that had decided that it hated him. Three months ago he wouldn’t have known a quarter of those curses but apparently you picked things up when you were the preferred handler of the entire double-0 division. He’d already been fluent in a handful of languages and was able to add even more languages along with a handful of obscure dialects although the only things he could really say were curses.  
  
His mobile pinged, informing him that his car was waiting downstairs and if he wasn’t in it within five minutes then the driver would be up to collect him. Apparently Eve hadn’t been lying when she had said that he didn’t have time to get dressed. Pulling on his shoes, he grabbed his mobile, his bag and then left the flat, only pausing briefly to ensure that his security systems engaged.  
  
It had been three months since the events of Skyfall, longer still since Silva’s attack on MI6 itself and things were still constantly evolving. Mallory taking over the position of M had been as seamless as it was going to be. Particularly considering that a large proportion of the world’s criminal underworld had taken the blowing up on MI6 as a carte blanche to run amok.  
  
Every single field agent that could be sent out into the field had been, leaving only the support staff in London while the double-0 division had been run ragged. Normally, every double-0 was given a period of enforced downtime after a certain number of missions or, if it was a particularly bad mission, immediate enforced downtime. After Silva, that was no longer an option. It had been three months of non-stop missions for field agents and the double-0’s in particular which meant three months of non-stop work for Q as well.  
  
If anything, Q had been working harder than anybody else except for Mallory and Tanner. Q hadn’t actually been Q, not officially, until MI6 had blown up taking with it the previous Q and a number of other support staff. His rapid promotion (even though he had been the only candidate considered) combined with in-house politics, having to relocate Q-branch, R & D and the armoury not to mention running missions and everything else he had to do as a senior member of MI6 meant that Q had taken to sleeping on a camp bed in the corner of his private office. It was far from ideal but what other choice did he have? There was no R and most of his department – whom Moneypenny and the double-double-0’s referred to as his minions – were all incredibly young, all of them taken on in an era where cyber-based skills were becoming more and more necessary and thus not really capable of running missions. There were a couple of exceptions of course, several older members of Q-branch that had proved invaluable to Q and those that he could trust.  
  
However, the double-0’s were a possessive bunch. Despite their jibes at his age, Q had proved that he was more than capable of doing his job. He may be the youngest branch head in MI6 history but he was the best quartermaster that they had had. The double-0’s refused to have anybody but the best on their comms.  
  
And Q was the best.  
  
Things were slowly starting to get back to normal so upon orders from Moneypenny, with no double-0’s on a mission that would need him for the next eight hours, Q left another member of Q-branch in charge and returned to his flat for what felt like (and probably was) the first time in months. More than anything he was looking forward to having a bath and a good night’s sleep in a proper bed; MI6 had many things but good water pressure wasn’t one of them. Besides, a hot bath and a glass of old, expensive Scotch sounded like just the thing after such a stressful period.  
  
It had all been going so well. A carpool driver had taken him home – another development as a result of the security breach, at least for department heads – and he had been met by a delivery man from his preferred Chinese takeaway, Eve evidently having interfered and phoned in an order. It took mere seconds for him to bypass his security system and then he was finally alone in the peace and quiet of his own flat. He had gobbled down the takeaway while the bath ran before retreating into the steaming heat of the bathroom with a generous measure of Scotch. He only got out of the bath when he started falling asleep, knowing that it would be just his luck to survive Silva’s attack only to drown himself in his own bath. The bath having sapped him of what little remaining energy he had left, he had just about managed to dry himself off before collapsing into bed and pulling the duvet over his head.  
  
He was asleep within seconds.  
  
It felt like he’d had far too little sleep when Q was awoken by the horrible, blaring ringtone of his official mobile, set loud enough to wake the dead and the noise obnoxious enough that you would answer it quickly just to shut it up, never mind Queen and country! It was three am and he realised he’d only had a solid five hours sleep. Not enough by far, he needed double that again before he felt human again but it was the longest period of solid sleep that he had been granted in a while so he wasn’t going to protest too much.  
  
It was Moneypenny on the other end of the line informing him that there was a situation with double-06 and that agent in question didn’t trust anyone other than Q to get him out alive. Not to mention that something had happened in R & D so R, Q’s second, was out of action. She had sent a car to collect him that would be arriving in five minutes.  
  
Stumbling down the stairs, he threw himself into the back of the waiting Sedan, his hands already scrabbling with his laptop as he connected to Q-branch. Of course it would be double-06 that had the problems and not one of the other agents out in the field. Alec Trevelyan and James Bond, best friends and partners in crime for nearly twenty years; there was a reason that M was so careful about ensuring that the two of them were no longer assigned to the same missions. Or the same country at the same time. The two of them caused havoc and chaos on nine out of ten missions and, between the two of them, were the reason that the Q-branch budget had steadily increased year upon year since they had both attained double-0 status.  
  
It only made sense that, with Bond back in London and on enforced medical leave that it would be Alec causing trouble. Had it been any other double-0 agent that had run into trouble, Q knew that Eve wouldn’t have called him in but Alec, like Bond, had difficulties in following orders at the best of times and a disturbing propensity to improvise, often with a serious lack of care for his own safety, the equipment that he had been given by Q-branch and whether or not he was going to cause an international dispute.  
  
They had barely been driving two minutes before Q had patched himself into the MI6 mainframe and had his inept minion, the one that had been supposedly handling the mission on the other end of the phone.  
  
“What’s the situation?”  
  
Q listened to the stammering, babbling idiot trying to explain the state of play as he pulled up intel, watched CCTV footage and Alec’s movements from the trackers that all double-0 agents were now implanted with. Mentally he made a note to move this particular minion to R & D.  
  
“Patch me through to 006 and then consider yourself removed from this mission. I’ll handle it from here on in.” He heard a quiet affirmation followed by a few seconds of scuffling sounds before hurried breathing filled his ear. “006, this is Q. Report please.”  
  
“Q, thank fuck. It’s all gone tits up. Bad intel from that little shit of an informant.” Alec descended into a stream of curses and threats in Russian that Q merely blinked at.  
  
“Let’s not cast aspersions on the man’s mother 006. I’m on my way into Q-branch at the moment so I need you to give me all the details that you can.”  
  
Alec was still talking when they pulled up at headquarters, Q being waved through all of the security without questions although there were more than a few raised eyebrows. No-one made a comment though until he walked into Q-branch. The few Q-branch members working the night-shift didn’t comment, of course they didn’t; they all adored Q and were fairly convinced that he was the best thing to happen to Q-branch in a long time. Although that might be due to the fact that there was almost nothing that he would veto and he hadn’t complained when R & D accidentally blew up one of the labs. The comments came from the higher-ups gathered in Q-branch. Moneypenny and Tanner, Q could understand but why was M there? And of course Bond was there, lurking in a corner.  
  
“Is that really appropriate attire Quartermaster?”  
  
Mallory was, of course, impeccably dressed as usual. Q couldn’t work out if he had had more notice before being called in or if Mallory simply just hadn’t left the office and still been in the building. Whatever the reason was, Q couldn’t help but feel more than a little disgruntled. Tanner looked smart and unassuming as he always did, completely unruffled despite the ridiculously early hour, Eve looked as though she was about to go out for cocktails in a vividly coloured sheath dress and wicked looking stilettos while of course Bond looked as though he’d just stepped out of the pages of GQ magazine.  
  
And of course Q had to be wearing his pyjamas while James bloody Bond was dressed like a walking wet dream. They weren’t even his good pyjamas. They were the ridiculously comfortable pyjama bottoms, the ones that he had worn so frequently and that had been washed so many times that they were practically see-through. Add to that the baggy t-shirt that had originally belonged to an ex-boyfriend and Q was wishing that he had managed to pick up the equally huge hoodie that had belonged to yet another ex. At least wearing that he might have had some hope of hiding the inevitable erection that would come with Bond looking like he did. Maybe the fact that there was an audience would mean that he could avoid getting a hard-on. He didn’t think it was that likely though. It would help if Bond would just stay in his corner where Q couldn’t see him and could thus ignore him.  
  
Oh great, and now Bond was smirking at him. The ridiculous smirk that made the older man look even more attractive and pissed Q off but at the same time made him want to beg the agent to just rip his clothes off and fuck him into his desk. And then he remembered that he was in pyjamas and really shouldn’t be thinking about Bond fucking him in Q-branch so he tugged his t-shirt down as best as he could whilst still trying to be subtle and moving as swiftly as he could towards his bank of monitors.  
  
It all left Q feeling very young, out of place and rather irrationally irritated; five minutes to let him get dressed didn’t really sound like a long time but, considering that he didn’t know exactly what was happening in Russia, those five minutes could mean life or death for Alec. Judging by what he now knew, that probably wasn’t the case and, while the intel was bad and things hadn’t gone to plan, Alec was a more than capable agent albeit one with the predilection to create unnecessary chaos.  
  
“Probably not but you can blame Moneypenny for that. She told me that I had five minutes to be in the car and if I wasn’t then the driver would put me in the car whether I was dressed or naked.” Bit of an exaggeration but she looked far too smug while Q was in his pyjamas. He hadn’t even been offered a cup of tea yet. Moneypenny may be M’s assistant but as a branch head, Q did technically outrank her.  
  
“So Q’s wearing a Star Trek t-shirt or pyjamas by the sound of it. Or is it something more interesting?” The lecherous grin on Alec’s face could be heard even through the phone. “It’s all very nice and intriguing but that doesn’t change the fact that my intel was bad and if you don’t do something soon I’m going to get bloody shot at!”  
  
“Well if that happens you’d better shoot back hadn’t you 006? I’d hate to think that I personalised that gun for you for nothing.”  
  
“Alec has a personalised gun?” The annoyance in Bond’s voice could clearly be heard.  
  
By contrast, the smugness and mocking in Alec’s voice was obvious. “Awww, poor James. Do you not feel special anymore?”  
  
“Shut up Alec. Of course I’m special; I got the personalised gun first. Besides, everybody knows that I’m Q’s favourite.”  
  
“Do they? Why would you be Q’s favourite? You might have got the personalised gun first but then you went and managed to lose it within a few days.”  
  
“It got eaten by a bloody dragon! That was hardly my fault!”  
  
“Of course it was your fault; you were dicking around when there were dragons in the vicinity. If anybody is going to be Q’s favourite then it’s going to be me.”  
  
Q listened to their banter with one ear, most of his attention still on the screens in front of him, taking in all of the information and desperately seeing if there was a way to salvage this mission. The camaraderie between Alec Trevelyan and James Bond, 006 and 007 respectively, was legend in MI6 as was their amazing ability to create chaos wherever they went. He had been jealous of the relationship that the two of them shared originally, positive that he could never be anything to either of them. Instead, he had steadily found himself drawn into their chaos and he had loved it. Both of them teased him incessantly but it was Bond who flirted outrageously which didn’t help Q’s crush at all. After all, Bond flirted with men and women indiscriminately, more women than men given his legendary prowess, which meant that Q wasn’t an exception; he was just one of a multitude of others. All it did was make him more and more determined to stamp down his crush and the hope that, one day, he might be more than just an office flirtation to Bond. Unfortunately, he had had no such luck yet.  
  
“If you two have quite finished, I’ll have you know that neither of you is my favourite. My favourite is 004 because he is actually capable of returning all of his equipment intact, not hanging around Q-branch distracting my staff and not annoying me.” Despite his amusement at two lethal trained killers arguing over which of them was his favourite, Q couldn’t help but be more than a little mortified that this discussion was happening in front of his boss. He also hoped that none of them knew that he was lying through his teeth because he really was an awful liar and Bond was his favourite agent. “006, please try to be better than 007 and bring your weapon home.”  
  
“Didn’t you know Q, I’m always better than James at everything.”  
  
There was a snort of derision from the corner that Bond was stood in and Q just knew that they were going to start their banter again. “That’s bullshit Alec. What about that time in Tunis that …”  
  
“Ah-hem.”  Both men fell silent as M cleared his throat. “If you gentlemen have quite finished, I would quite like to avoid an international crisis, particularly as 006 isn’t supposed to be in Russia.”  
  
There were two quiet, almost respectful “Yes Sir”’s from Bond’s corner and from Alec over the comms, but Q knew that neither of them was truly sorry. Raising his head from the screens in front of him, Q saw a small smile playing at the corners of Tanner’s mouth and Moneypenny had conveniently buried her attention in her phone. M paid them no attention as he carried on talking.  
  
“006, do you have any means of salvaging the mission?”  
  
“Negative. Maybe if I hadn’t had to deal with that insipid, incompetent idiot then maybe but not now.”  
  
“In which case 006, consider your instructions null and void. This mission is terminated. Q will book you a ticket back to London and be in touch. Stay low until then.”  
  
Barely a minute passed since the words left M’s mouth before Q was speaking again. “006, your flight has been booked and it leaves in an hour. Your ticket will be waiting at the departures desk for you. Please do endeavour to not be distracted by either vodka or air stewardesses and actually be on the plane when it leaves.”  
  
“As you wish, my dear Quartermaster.” Alec’s voice was full of suppressed laughter and Q didn’t need to look behind him to know that Bond was grinning outright.  
  
“Thank you Q, my apologies for rousing you from your bed. We had hoped that you would be able to recover the mission and direct 006 to ensure its completion. Moneypenny will call you a driver from the carpool and you can resume your time off. I’m sure that R will be able to cope. She only has minor smoke inhalation.” When there was no response from Q, M spoke again. “Quartermaster? Did you hear me?”  
  
Q gave no sign of hearing him yet again, his fingers typing furiously as his eyes darted between the multitude of screens in front of him, data streaming at a ridiculous rate. As Tanner moved behind Q to try and follow what he was doing, nobody paid any attention to Bond slipping out of the room. Q only registered his reappearance because he came accompanied by the instantly recognisable, and very much needed, scent of bergamot. Q muttered his thanks but didn’t bother to reach out and take it, still focused completely on his screens.  
  
“Tanner, what is he doing?” M was starting to be more than a little unimpressed by the fact that Q still wasn’t responding to him.  
  
“I believe that he is completing 006’s mission, Sir.”  
  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
  
“Q has retrieved all of the data that we needed and is currently working on … eradicating the weapon stockpiles.”  
  
The whole room watched, impressed, as Q proceeded to complete the mission that Alec had been sent out to complete in no time at all, without breaking a sweat and looking for all the world as though he should still be at school. Very few people believed that Q was old enough to drink let alone head up a branch of MI6 and, dressed as he was, it wasn’t hard to understand how they reached that conclusion.  
  
Ensuring that all traces that he had been there were removed, Q turned his attention away from the monitors and towards the tea that Bond had made for him, and in the ridiculously oversized mug that was Q’s favourite as well.  He was trying to decide whether he was disturbed or impressed that Bond knew exactly how he took his tea when the man himself was at his side.  
  
“You really weren’t lying when you said you could do more damage than a double-0 agent were you?”  
  
“And I haven’t even had my tea yet.” He turned quickly to glance at Bond’s reaction.  
  
Bond looked genuinely impressed and Q couldn’t help but preen slightly. Before Q could respond further, he was summoned over to talk to M and the next time that he turned around Bond had disappeared.

  
(~*~)

  
Having been dismissed by an impressed Mallory for the second time, Q had headed down to where he had been informed that the driver would pick him up. Feeling satisfied with the evening’s work, or should it be morning’s work, Q overlooked the fact that his much needed and anticipated rest had been disturbed. Still, maybe the second attempt would be better. There was no sign of the unmarked car that he was expecting and he had just pulled out his phone, intending on ringing to find out where it was, when a car pulled up next to him. Rather than the unassuming Sedan that he was expecting, Bond’s Aston Martin had pulled up instead. Q barely hesitated before stepping inside, barely managing to strap himself in before Bond was screeching out of the car park.  
  
“You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”  
  
“Wouldn’t you like to know 007?” Q gave the flirtatious response before he had the opportunity to really think about it. The minute that the words left his mouth he wished that he could take them back. A quick glance sideways showed that Bond had taken the words in the flirtatious manner that they were intended.  
  
“We’re both off duty. You don’t have to call me by my call-sign anymore. You can call me James or Bond.” He turned in his seat, taking his eyes off the road to flash a charming smile at Q. “What can I call you?”  
  
“Q.”  
  
“Playing hard to get Quartermaster? I like it.”  
  
Q couldn’t help but blush at that, cursing his traitorous capillaries. Before he could respond to Bond’s flirtations, Q glanced out of the window and realised whereabouts in London they were.  
  
“Where on earth are you taking me 00- Bond? This isn’t the way to my flat and I know that you’re not completely inept at reading a map.”  
  
“Your words wound me, my dear Q. Well, it may be a little early but I thought I would take you out for breakfast. I know a fantastic little place.”  
  
“Bond, I’m wearing my pyjamas not a ridiculous designer suit like you. They aren’t particularly suitable.”  
  
“I assure you, your attire is absolutely fine. You’ll hear no complaints from me anyway. Besides, I know the owners.”  
  
“Of course you do. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”  
  
They fell back into silence for the brief couple of minutes that made up the rest of the journey only for Q’s eyes to widen even further when he saw the building that they had pulled up outside of.  
  
“Here? Anybody would think that you were trying to seduce me Mr Bond.”  
  
Little did Q know that, looking sideways at the almost fey creature next to him, dressed in pyjamas that were far too big for him and hid absolutely nothing with his ridiculous hair and glasses, Bond couldn’t help but think that yes, he did want to seduce his Quartermaster. As ridiculous as it sounded.  
  
Seducing the Quartermaster. Well that was what Bond was going to spend his downtime doing. It wasn’t going to be easy, particularly as Q appeared to be quite mercurial, but Bond had never backed down from a challenge. In fact, he relished them. Particularly when the end result was as delightful as Q.  
  
And oh what a challenge Q was going to be. All of a sudden, Bond was looking forward to his previously dreaded downtime.


End file.
